They deserve it
by Spock99
Summary: Horace Slughorn and his Slytherins share a special bond. At the final battle of Hogwarts, the Potions Professor sees what has become of his snake, the past and present ones.


_Written for QLFC, Season 7 round 10: Chaser 1 of Falmouth Falcons_

_Prompts:_

_Kill Lucius_

_word: impact_

_character: Horace Slughorn_

_dialogue: "Have you been crying?"_

_Warning: Character Death, use of cruciatus, OOC Horace since he calls Voldemort by his given name. He is not ashamed or scared of what his students became. The reason for that is the deep bond the Head of Slytherin shares with his students._

* * *

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**They deserve it**

"Draco, come!" Voldemort stretches his hand out to us. Us, that is we, who are standing on the "wrong side" as the monster would say. Automatically, my gaze seeks the blond hair among the children around me, but I can't see him. The boy was in terrible condition all year long. He was shaken to the core, filled with fear but determined to step into his father's footsteps and follow Tom.

I still can't believe how the little boy, excited with the wizarding world, grew into such a nasty man. Powerful and brilliant in his own magic, but violent and disgusting in his ways. The blood in my veins was running faster as Tom's eyes fly over us. 

There are so many innocent souls among us. Young, innocent children who were forced into this war without their consent, sometimes even without understanding why the war is raging around them.

I know most of them since I've taught for two years at Hogwarts now. But my biggest problem is this: I know so many of the men and women on the other side. They were my students a long time ago, and I know every single one by name. Even after all these years, I can remember their astonished faces and pure joy when coming to Hogwarts for the first time.

There is Mcnair. He was a chubby, little guy who was hit by puberty late. When he finally did start to grow a small beard, he was overjoyed. He was in his seventh year back then, and for two weeks nothing could end his happiness. Then I can see Corban Yaxley. He was so terrible in Transfiguration but almost obsessed with Muggle Studies. What happened to make him hunt down muggle-borns last year is still a riddle to me. 

It is quiet around us. The people are staring either at the Dark Lord or at Draco Malfoy, who must be somewhere ahead of me and to the left. Their eyes must have found his blond hair in the crowd. The hair that is so much like his father's was before he went to Azkaban. The prison has changed the graceful, bright, gifted prefect I once knew so well.

"Come, Draco…" The Dark Lord repeats, and there is something in his voice. Something almost gentle. And then Draco starts walking in their direction. Now I can see him. At first, his steps are small, slow as if he is still trying to find a way out of this hell. But the further he gets, the bigger his steps become. My gaze flickers to Lucius and Narcissa across the square. Both are pale and look like they are too tired and scared to stand. I can see their hands clutched in each other's.

Draco is now in the middle between the two crowds. In the middle of all this war. And he is alone. Like I see my students, present and past ones, I see how he just wants to be a boy and live in peace with his family.

Both elder Malfoys are unable to suppress their feelings as Narcissa takes a small, very small, step forward towards her son. Lucius is about to follow, but then he reigns in his emotions and pulls her back roughly. He doesn't want his son between the two lines of fire. But they want him in their arms so badly.  
Draco is forced to choose a side now, and he is the one Tom uses as an example. The young Slytherin pulls himself up to his full height and tries to look more self-assured than he actually is. He walks on, and his shoes make the only sound on the stone floor. 

"Draco, no!" Suddenly, a yell rips through the heavy silence. I don't know that voice, but it must be someone from our side. A girl. The sound of his name makes Draco stop immediately. He doesn't turn around, though. 

Narcissa's head has shot up, now she is looking around frantically. There must be someone who wants to keep Draco from joining the dark side. But when her expression falters and her eyes settle back on her son, I know she couldn't find the speaker, either. Lucius is merely staring at the ground to his feet. 

Most likely he is thinking hard. That was a habit of his when he was a second year, back then he needed time to sort out his whirling thoughts. I recognize that in him again now. 

When finally, the silence stretches too long, Tom steps in to get the boy moving once more. 

"Draco, come here," he says quietly; his voice fills the whole square even if he doesn't raise it. Draco stands for a moment longer before he starts walking again. 

I see how Narcissa raises her free hand to bite down on her knuckles. She was once so brilliant, so pretty and happy. I remember how she walked through the castle that is now naught but shattered stone. She was such a proud witch, talented and eager to see what the future may hold. But I don't think she was expecting that what is happening around us. 

A shudder runs down my spine as I watch Draco's arrival before Tom. The boy bows his head, and then Tom closes the distance between them and hugs Draco. My young Slytherin is stiff, like a piece of wood, and so is Tom. 

But however awkward the embrace might be, it lasts for a few seconds with neither of them pulling away. Draco must be staring at his parents, as his head is straight, and Lucius and Narcissa are staring at him, too. 

I can hear Bellatrix, that insane woman, laugh in the background. Another bright lady I lost to the dark side. This day is sad, so terribly sad. Not only because I see what became and becomes of my students, but because I know that no one will care who those people are who stand behind Tom. For most, they are just Death Eaters; that they were once students in this very castle themselves can be forgotten easily. 

Finally, Tom lets go of the Malfoy heir and sends him to his parents. Draco almost runs from the vile man to his family. But the very moment Narcissa folds her son into her arms, Tom turns around to them. Lucius has a hand on his son's shoulder, and his head is lowered. They make a miserable picture of a family made of broken individuals. 

I gasp as I see Tom raise his wand at Draco. None of the small family notices his actions as they are too engrossed in their reunion. Shouts of warning arise from the students on our side, but it is too late. A jet of fierce, red light shoots at the young man standing with his back to Tom Riddle. The impact propels him further against his mother before both of them crumple to the floor. 

It hits him square between the shoulder blades, and then he is on the ground. Draco's shrieks and cries of pain fill the air. I can't turn my eyes from the cruel sight over there. 

Narcissa is on the ground next to her writhing son. She was pulled down by his dead weight as the cruciatus curse hit him. 

Lucius is in shock. He doesn't move but stares at his family, and that very moment I can see the broken, desperate man he really is. 

Tom cancels the curse rather quickly for his standards. He waves a hand towards Lucius, and the blond man falls to his knees next to his son and wife before he tries to pull them up as gently as possible. 

"Remember, my friends," Tom addresses our side again, "remember there is no mercy for those who fail in my services. You will be spared death if you join me now; if you choose not to, your life will end soon." 

"Draco." He returns his attention to the Malfoys. "Draco, you have failed your assigned task to kill Dumbledore, so now you will pay." The monster raises his wand once again and inhales to say an incantation, but right then there is movement. A flash of blond hair whirls to the front. Lucius Malfoy pushes his half-conscious son behind him and throws himself to his knees in front of the Dark Lord. 

For the first time since this all started, the Slytherin holds his head high. Suddenly the noble pure-blood wizard is back. His face is flushed, but his eyes are clear. 

"My Lord, spare my son and wife! I beg you, please they…" A sharp movement from Tom stops Malfoy's speech. 

And then the evil bastard starts to laugh. Lord Voldemort is laughing. It is a shrill and high-pitched sound, but he is definitely laughing. Now the silence around us becomes even more uncomfortable. It seems neither Death Eaters nor our side has ever heard Tom laugh. 

"Lucius," he says, slightly out of breath. Then the monster leans forward and tightly grasps Lucius' chin. 

"Have you been crying? Have you really been crying, Lucius?" His words are filled with pure astonishment. 

"Have you been crying because of the just punishment your little boy took from my hand? You of all people should know, Lucius, how a failed task is punished." 

I was watching the scene so attentively that I didn't see the movement to my right. Only when a shouted "Expelliarmus" reaches my ears, does my head whip around, as do hundreds of other heads. 

There in front of Hagrid stands, stands for real, one Harry Potter! Joy, confusion, fear and relief flood my being all at once as I see the boy step forward and meet the quickly uttered killing curse of the Dark Lord.

Then hell breaks loose. 

* * *

It seems only like minutes since Harry Potter attacked Tom, but so much has happened. The two opposing groups are now fighting to the death. I see Longbottom jump from a huge stone block and lift something, I can see Order members fighting several Death Eaters alone, Harry is still holding up his spell-fight with Tom, and then I can see it. 

Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco are fleeing. They are running down the bridge leading towards Hogsmeade. Lucius is holding both of them tightly, shielding them with his own body. 

A smile breaks out on my face. The little snake brought up the courage of a lion and left. I am proud of my students as I see them running down the bridge. But my eyes catch sight of a green light following them. 

I whirl around as fast as I can and see one dark-hooded figure still pointing his wand at the three. It happens so fast, my brain can't catch up with the events. The green jet of light hits Lucius in the back and he falls. He stumbles a few steps, driven forward by the impact before he falls to the ground lifelessly. His hands lose their grip on his wife and son, and he falls to the ground just as the little family arrives at the apparition point right in front of the once strong barriers. 

A shriek of shock and fury tears itself from my throat and before I can even realize what I am doing, I point my wand at the man who robbed his son of a brilliant, loving father, and who killed one of my beloved students. 

* * *

It is over. Finally over. The light side came out victorious in the dawn when Harry Potter overthrew Lord Voldemort. Now we are exhausted, mourning our dead and taking stock of the fallen. 

I can't be in there. I can't see my fellow survivors mourning their family and friends. I just can't. Instead, I am walking around outside in the rain, searching for those who won't be mourned by anyone. Those who were once my trusted snakes. I have found several already. And I remember their names. All of them. 

My feet drag along the stone towards the lonely, fallen man on the bridge. There he lies. Soaked with rain, his silvery-grey eyes staring unseeingly into the equally grey sky.

I sink to my knees heavily next to Lucius. His face is cold, I can see the number tattooed into his neck, the number he got as a prisoner in Azkaban. The runes that sealed his fate. 

Sorrow overwhelms me, and I start to cry. The rain mixes with the tears as I reach out a shaking hand and press Lucius' eyes shut. 

Sobs wrack my body as I let out all the grief for my lost students, the present and the past ones, the Slytherins, Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs, who are lost forever. 

I don't know how long I have been kneeling on the wet ground, but after a while, I feel the gentle weight of a hand on my shoulder. When I look up, there is Minerva. 

"It is okay, Horace," she says. "It is okay to grieve for them." 

I look at her, and she helps me up from the ground. 

"Have you been crying, Horace?" she asks, and I nod. Her face grows softer and she smiles at me. 

"That is good, they were your students. I know how much you love your snakes, and they deserve it." 


End file.
